"Percy, wake up."
Percy vaguely felt someone shaking his shoulder. He groaned and weakly pushed the hand away; he'd rather stay in bed than go out to the docks to work. Percy mumbled an objection to being roused and turned over to his side.
As he moved over, he felt a searing pain from his hip as it bore his weight. He opened his eyes in shock, suddenly awake. He jumped into a sitting position, nearly bumping heads with a concerned Grover who had been bending over to look at him. Percy glanced around; they were still on the bridge, a heavy rain coming down. He was currently sitting in a puddle, the black ooze that had been Eurynomos slowly creeping towards him. He moved to his feet in disgust, sending a new wave of pain from his hip.
"Woah, slow down," Grover exclaimed, noticing Percy's pain. He took Percy's arm and placed it over his shoulder, providing support for Percy's bad side. "I fixed you up a bit, but you're gonna need a proper doctor. Think you can walk for a while?"
Percy nodded. The pair started to hobble down the bridge, Percy gasping as he walked. His chest felt compressed, and as he looked down he could see ragged strips of cloth tied around his wounds as makeshift bandages. He turned his head and saw that Grover was bare-chested, his cheap shirt used to staunch his wounds.
They walked for hours, nearing the edge of the city. Percy felt eyes follow them as they walked down the streets; the pair was easy pickings for a mugging, and everyone who looked at them knew it. As the densely-packed buildings gave way to overgrown trees, a traveling merchant passed them by, pulling a load of cargo. Grover begged passage from the driver, who reluctantly agreed to take them along his route. Grover paid the man a few pence and laid Percy in the freight wagon before taking a seat in the front, where the driver could keep an eye on him.
They rode on for another hour, traveling into the woods. Percy felt a sharp jolt of pain every time the wagon dipped into a hole in the unkempt road. After ten minutes, his bandages opened slightly, leaking blood onto the wooden floor of the wagon. He could hear Grover and the driver talk from the front of the carriage, but their words were drowned out by the sound of the rain and his own groaning.
Percy looked around; the wagon was filled with crates of goods, products from the manufactories in the city. They were stacked up to the ceiling of the wagon, teetering precariously as the carriage moved. He was currently leaning against a box of clothing. He hoped the crate would be enough to keep his blood from staining the goods inside. Percy turned and looked through the box, seeing if he would have to compensate the merchant. The clothing was of good quality, soft to the touch. Percy was placing the clothing back in place when he felt something hard underneath them. He moved the clothing to reveal a number of muskets, purposefully hidden in the crate. Sharp bayonets laid next to the guns, ready to be installed and stabbed into someone.
Percy quickly put everything back in place and moved away from the crate. The "merchant" was actually a smuggler, stealing away in the middle of the night with his contraband. Percy made a mental note not to anger the driver; smugglers were often armed and willing to quiet any witnesses.
After a while of Percy silently bleeding out onto a crate of weaponry, wondering at how his life had changed in the last few hours, the carriage came to a shuddering halt. The flap covering the entrance to the wagon flew open, letting in a steady stream of moonlight. The moon was directly overhead now, lighting up the night. In the distance, Percy could see the dim lights of London, a shining beacon in the dark countryside. Grover poked his head into the wagon, blocking Percy's view of the city. He carefully helped Percy out of the carriage, wincing at the puddle of blood left behind. They hopped down into the middle of a forest clearing, nearly bumping into the smuggler.
The man looked slightly dazed as he looked over the two of them. He eyed the trail of blood from Percy to his goods, face blank. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again with a confused look.
"So," the smuggler said, cocking his head. "I'll be off, then." Without another word, he slowly clambered onto the carriage and grabbed the reins, driving off along the forest path,
"What's his deal?" Percy asked, watching the wagon disappear into the trees.
"He dropped us off too close to camp. The mortal shield messed him up a bit," Grover explained, as if this meant anything to Percy. "He'll be fine once he gets far enough away."
"Mortal?"
Grover gave him a surprised look then quickly recovered. "That's right, you're new to this. Sorry, it's strange for me to see someone unaccustomed to…" He did a vague hand gesture. "Everything."
Percy was getting extremely confused, but his suspicions were being blocked by the pain in his entire body. "You said you know a doctor," Percy said, changing the topic. "I don't see anything here but trees."
Grover pointed behind him. "We're here."
Percy looked to where Grover was pointing and saw a building that had definitely not been there before. The building appeared to be a tavern, its plastered walls grimy from the forest. A warm glow could be seen through the windows, and several figures were moving around the inside. Percy could faintly hear some sort of stringed instrument being played inside. Engraved on a swinging sign hanging from the door was a winged horse with the name of the tavern written underneath.
Percy eyed the tavern warily. He doubted any self-respecting doctor could be found there, at least one that was sober enough to clean his wounds. "Grover," Percy said slowly. "What is this?"
"I know this looks bad, but it's just the entrance," Grover said. "Don't worry."
Percy couldn't think of anything he'd like to do more than worry, but considering the absolute downturn that had been the past few hours, he decided to play along. With Grover supporting him, the pair opened the door and walked in.
Percy was met with an immediate rush of warmth as they stepped into the tavern. The main room was fairly large, with worn wooden tables scattered around the floor. Oil lamps were placed on each table and along the walls, lighting the area with flickering flames. An assortment of heads were lined above the fireplace, though they were some of the strangest heads Percy had ever seen. Next to a normal deer head was the head of an enormous boar, its gigantic tusks glowing in the light of the lamps. An ant head the size of a dog hung on the wall, along with a three-headed snake…thing. Directly above the mantle and in a place of importance was the head of a leopard, though something about it seemed strange. Its fur looked a bit too fresh, almost as if it was still alive, and Percy could almost swear that he could see the animal faintly breathing.
The tavern wasn't too full, probably because the drunkards didn't want to walk in the rain. Several of the tables were occupied by rowdy patrons, drinking a variety of alcohols and troublingly playing with several types of weaponry. As Percy watched, one of the men at a table pulled out a sword and threw it at the wall next to him, embedding it several inches into the plaster.
Percy felt awkward standing there, dripping water and blood onto a mat that was printed with the same winged horse as the outside sign. The barkeep, a blonde-haired boy around the same age as Percy, looked up from cleaning a tankard and noticed Percy and Grover standing in the entrance.
"Welcome to The Half-Blood Tavern-" The barkeep started to speak, but stopped when he saw who it was. "Grover!" the boy said, putting down the cup.
"Hey, Castor," Grover said, raising one hand in greeting.
"What are you doing here?" The boy suddenly noticed Percy's condition, gasping. "What
happened?"
"Monster attack. My friend got hurt pretty badly. Think you can wake up one of the Apollo kids?"
Castor nodded then ran off through the back. Grover pushed Percy up a bit and started to walk through the tavern. They had made it halfway to the back when they were stopped by one of the patrons.
"What happened to you, kid?" The man calling him had a chubby face and very dark black hair, and he was wearing a garish leopard-spotted coat. He was sitting leisurely at a table with his arms around two women with slightly green skin who giggled as they saw Percy. In front of him was a flagon of a strange golden liquid that seemed to give off an odd glow.
"A demon happened," Percy managed to say.
Next to him, Grover straightened himself and appeared somewhat nervous. He bowed as much as he was able to while still holding on to Percy. "G-greetings, Dionysus," he said quietly. Percy looked at Grover strangely as he saw his friend's sudden change of demeanor.
The man, who was apparently named Dionysus, waved his hand dismissively. "Hey, satyr." He grabbed the cup of golden liquid and took a deep drink from it. He gave a loud sigh of contentment and turned his attention back on Percy. "Demons, you say?"
"Yes," Percy said firmly. "It attacked me while I was walking down the street. It called itself Eurynomos-"
"Eurynomos?" Dionysus exclaimed, surprised. "That old vulture? Oh, I haven't seen him in centuries! He was always ruining my parties; I told him he didn't need to bring any snacks, but he still put it upon himself to bring a rotting corpse as an appetizer." Dionysus shook his head. "Nothing ruins the mood more than some dead guy next to the pastries."
Percy narrowed his eyes at Dionysus' exclamation. Now that he thought about it, this man's name was as strange as Eurynomos'. "You knew him, then?"
"In passing, mainly. I was never one for human meat; sure, it spiced up the parties a bit, but then you had everyone complaining about where it came from, who they were, it's honestly not worth the effort. Give me a nice roasted pheasant any day."
Percy ground his teeth in anger. Dionysus was talking about the monster who attacked him as if it was an old companion. And this talk about human meat…something about the man was definitely off.
Dionysus said something while Percy wasn't paying attention. Percy suddenly focused back into the conversation.
"...Imagine you gave him a proper whacking, didn't you?"
Percy hesitated for a moment. "I killed it, if that's what you're asking."
"First time you killed someone?" Dionysus flashed him a wicked grin.
Percy drew himself up righteously. "Yes, and, God willing, it'll be my last."
Dionysus looked at him for a second before bursting into laughter, pounding the table with mirth. The two women on Dionysus' sides started giggling as well. Percy stared at the man angrily as he went into fits of laughter.
After a minute, Dionysus managed to pull himself together enough to speak. "Imagine that! A demigod who isn't going to kill anyone! That'd be a neat trick. Well, we'll see how far that takes you. To the grave, most likely." He started laughing again at his own joke, eventually settling down into a weezing chuckle as he sat back into his seat.
"What's so funny? Am I to take it that you approve of murder?" Grover, who had been silent this entire time, elbowed Percy as a warning.
Dionysus focused his blood-shot eyes on Percy. "Murder? It ain't murder if they're tryna kill you first. 'Course, who am I to talk? I've killed enough mortals for looking at me funny. Does turning someone into a grape vine count as killing them?" Dionysus smiled. "And I know my beloved siblings have done their fair share of wanton murders." He gave a loud belch and took another swig from his tankard.
Percy's eyes widened as Dionysus so casually admitted to murder. "What kind of man are you?"
"A-apologies, my lord," Grover stammered. "My friend isn't accustomed to-"
Dionysus gave a loud bark of laughter. "A man? I'm afraid I'm not a man at all." With a flick of his wrist, a large wooden rod wrapped in ivy and topped with a pine cone appeared in his hand. A purple flame emanated from the top of the rod as he idly spun it between his fingers. "What's your name?"
"Percy."
"Well, Perry," Dionysus said, disregarding Percy's name. "In the future, it would be best if you didn't raise your voice to me. Unless, of course, you enjoy being reduced to a nice keg of ale."
"Are you threatening me?" Next to Percy, Grover made a small noise of disbelief as he challenged Dionysus.
Dionysus looked at Percy with surprise. He eyed Percy, looking at his wounds and the way he was wavering on his feet. "Why, yes, I was. Did the big flaming stick not get my point across? Usually that's enough to quiet upstart mortals like yourself."
A serving boy walked in between Dionysus and the increasingly angry Percy, trying to diffuse the tension. The boy looked almost identical to the barkeep, Castor, the only difference being his clothes. He quickly took some of the empty glasses that littered the table and placed them on his tray, looking at Dionysus nervously.
Dionysus' attention shifted away from Percy as he looked at the boy. "Pollux, come here." He gestured for the boy to come closer.
"Yes, Father?" Pollux stood next to where Dionysus was sitting.
"This new demigod - Polly I believe is his name - is being very disrespectful to me, an affront for which a less kind god than me would surely kill him." Dionysus glared at Percy as he said this last part. "However, because I am such a nice person, I've decided to forgive his crimes." He sounded as if he was actually being merciful. "Get me a barrel of the strongest wine you have as a toast to my generosity." Pollux, looking slightly confused, nodded and went to the back room to get the wine.
Dionysus looked at Percy with distaste. "You're still here? Go, before I change my mind." He waved his hand and appeared to lose all interest in Percy.
Grover bowed again and quickly led Percy to the back of the tavern.
"You shouldn't have angered him," Grover whispered as they left.
"Who was that man?" Percy whispered back. "How could he say those things?"
"Dionysus can say whatever he wants," Grover said. "Please, try not to aggravate him."
The pair exited through the back door of the tavern into another forested area. As soon as Percy stepped out of the light from the tavern, he felt the pain and weariness from his wounds come crashing down on him. He allowed Grover to hobble him along a path, barely registering the scenery they passed. After a few minutes they ended up at a large building. Percy heard someone shout in surprise at the two of them, and he felt someone take up his other side and walk him into the building. Percy felt himself get lowered into a soft bed and sank into a deep sleep.